


dragon's blood

by Anonymous



Category: Fire Emblem: If | Fire Emblem: Fates
Genre: Gen, Head Injury, Injury, Mild Blood
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-29
Updated: 2019-07-28
Packaged: 2020-07-24 21:56:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,235
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20021665
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Robin!Selena is a descendant of Grima. Risen knew better than to strike her down; in Nohr, Faceless know better, too. It doesn't matter if their appearances are changed, if the mark on her hand is invisible. Everything knows, and she hates it.She'll use it to her advantage, but she hates it.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Selena knowing Faceless, Risen, and generally anything that fears the wrath of gods, dragons, or god dragons will avoid her, and why? So much fun.

Laslow doesn’t scream when his Faceless opponent gets a good blow in. There’s a grunt, the sound of armor ringing against rock, and the heavy thump of a body hitting the ground. He must hit his head because he doesn’t get up, doesn’t _move_ , and Selena curses because he always picks the goddamned worst times to be careless: right in the thick of the fighting, almost boxed in by enemies.

(Blaming him is unfair, but what’s the alternative? Thinking he’s tired or he’s injured enough that his best isn’t good enough? No. That opens up so many different doors with worrying possibilities. It’s easiest, safest, to tell herself Laslow was careless.)

“Odin!” Selena yells, because shrieking would mean she’s worried and Selena _never_ shrieks. His head whips towards her and he takes in the situation quickly: when she ducks and runs straight towards Laslow, the familiar crimson glow of his magic sears the corner of her vision. Her Faceless turns its attention to its new opponent, and Selena always hated this part.

The Faceless Laslow was fighting rears back. She could fight it. She _wants_ to fight it. She’s supposed to kill them anyway, and if she doesn’t Odin (and Laslow, when he wakes the hell up and stops slacking off) will. But there are four- five?- six in the immediate area that are slowly noticing an easy kill, and that’s too much.

She practically throws herself over him, snarling as her hair whips wildly around her face, onto the ground, sticking to the blood on the side of Laslow’s head. It catches on her teeth and lips. She doesn’t want to think of how animalistic she must look, like a rabid beast. One of her hands grabs his limp arm and throws it over her shoulder. The other points her sword at the closest Faceless.

It freezes. It takes a step backward, then forward, two different impulses telling it what to do.

Avoid Selena: get away, choose an easier target. But Laslow is the easier target. But Selena is in the way. But Laslow hurt it-

It’s enough time to half-drag Laslow a few feet back. Then Odin buys them time to retreat further, to get reinforcements, to drop Laslow off for medical attention and get back to the fighting. They get to finish the battle relatively unscathed, and she has the time to clean up and hate it.

The back of her hand is free of Grima’s mark. Nohr isn’t Ylisse and the only ones who know what she is are Laslow, Odin, and the Faceless.

If only Laslow and Odin knew-

No. Stop.

If she wasn’t ~~(what)~~ who she was, and if the Faceless couldn’t tell at a glance, Laslow would have more than a bump on his head and Selena would’ve been forced to watch it happen.

But she hates being _reminded_ of it.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My attention’s been elsewhere; I haven’t been focusing on my own things. But I felt this needed a bit more? Closure, I guess. It’s mostly headcanons and me tapping into that fun anxiety we all live with. The chapter's just Selena worrying, but she's got reason.

Grima is dead, they think. They aren’t sure. Robin vanished but was found alive in a field later. Don’t get her wrong; Selena prefers having two parents instead of one. But Robin was the one capable of containing Grima’s Heart, whatever the hell that meant. Grima’s mark was there at birth, and it grew with Robin. It’s linked to a dragon, but though that dragon is (supposed to be) dead, the mark remains. It’s a part of Robin, forever, and it’s a part of Robin’s children.

The mark on her hand is incomplete: three eyes instead of six, faded in patches as if it were half burned off. Morgan’s is incomplete in a uniquely different way. They’re still Grima’s descendants, and anything with a sense of self-preservation knows it. Animals, faceless, even humans who can’t see the mark- all of them sense something off and leave well enough alone. If asked, nobody would be able to explain why. But it still works, even in Nohr, even worlds away from home.

So Grima can’t possess them. So what? They’re his blood; they’re marked as having the potential to produce a perfect heir. Maybe it won’t be now. Maybe it’ll be centuries in the future. If Grima isn’t dead- then it’s dangerous for her to breed.

But that’s silly, isn’t it? Robin can’t be the only living descendant of the Grimleal; Selena and Morgan can’t be the last of their kind. They aren’t like Yarne or Panne, though. The only thing visibly distinguishing them is the mark. So even if they didn’t-

“Thanks, Selena.” His voice jars her; when she looks, there’s still blood in Laslow’s hair. _He_ looks like he wants to vomit at the very thought of standing, but he’s doing it anyway, swaying slightly on his feet. “I- Odin told me that you saved me. Thank you.”

She can’t see the mark of the Exalt in his eye, just like he can’t see the mark on her hand. Not that it makes a difference; animals and undead still just know.

“We’re friends, dummy. No need to thank me.”

He grins, then winces; he takes a seat beside her gingerly, and then in his most over-the-top voice says, “We’re friends, and that’s why I have to thank you! I know you don’t like… you know.”

“…Are you even supposed to be up?”

“Ha. Well, no. I’m supposed to be resting. But you’re changing the topic, Selena!”

_It’s not fair,_ she wants to say. Naga is, unquestionably, the ‘good’ god. She doesn’t possess vessels like Grima does. She saved all of them. She sent them back so they could save everyone else. Maybe things aren’t clean cut; maybe they can’t say that Naga is the embodiment of good. But she was good to them, and it makes Selena so jealous.

Laslow and Odin are Naga’s blessed and it means little. Creatures know she would never rain godly fire on them, that she will never _in person_ walk the earth. Being hers marks them as royalty and nothing more. There’s no division; _their_ mark is whole when it surfaces.

_(Poor Lissa, though- to wonder if she were a bastard and to need a child to prove otherwise.)_

But Grima…

Laslow leans against her, full-body, like he’s a second from passing out. She jumps, briefly, and he grins up at her before she glares, pointedly, at nothing. “My _hero_. Making the best of things. You fight dirty, Selena-”

“Shut up.”

“And we love you for it. Love you despite it.” The words make her pause; it’s too honestly mushy to be Laslow’s usual flirting. She glances down, and his eyelids are drooping. "I know you were afraid she’d send you too far,“ Laslow says, and his words are slow, ponderous with drowsiness. “Naga. You thought she might- send _both_ of you too far. ‘Lose’ you. But she didn’t.”

Was it really that obvious? Did she say it, before?

“So? She’s the good one.”

“No… she could have hedged her bets. Nipped things in the bud. But she didn’t. You’re worth the risk, Selena. A _god_ decided that.”

_You’ve got a concussion,_ she wants to say. _Am I supposed to call someone? Xander will kill you. Peri will kill me._

But Laslow’s eyes finally shut, and saying it would be _stupid_ , so she sits, and thinks, and wonders if he meant any of it. If he was reading too far into it, with his brains addled by that rock.

_(Can she believe him?)_

_(She wants to believe him, so, so badly.)_

**Author's Note:**

> I'd posted this on tumblr, in response to an ask sent to [obscurereference](https://someobscurereference.tumblr.com/post/181001600745/basocally-ehat-im-saying-with-the-powers-thing). Figured I'd drop it here as well, with no changes.


End file.
